Shadow of the Day
by Clopin K. Trouillefou
Summary: Past collides with present as an influx in hollow activity bring Goku and the gang face to face with the Saiyans who gave rise to Earth's greatest heroes. But how will it go down and can Goku reconcile with his Saiyan heritage?
1. Beginning's Aren't So Simple

Thick spikes of wild black hair rippled in the wind as a breeze blew over the rooftops where a figure sat on the balls of his feet on one of them. This was the Soul Society where souls came when they passed on or were guided here by the guardians of this place, the Soul Reapers who led good spirits here and purified souls that went bad after death. Soul reapers were themselves at one point deceased souls who retained spiritual powers that could be trained and used to police the spirit world. They came from all corners of the world and even, in the case of the one atop the roof, from the far reaches of the universe from a planet galaxies apart from Earth. No matter where in the universe, there was only one afterlife, only two places a departed soul could go: the Soul Society or Hell depending on one's actions in life. He was a member of a race of warriors from a distant planet called Vegeta, Saiyans they called themselves. They were a race that were remarkably human in appearance but with some differences, the most noticeable being their monkey-like tails, those tails being a significant source of their power. The extra appendage enabled them to transform into a gigantic monkey-like creatures known as oozarus with a glance at the full moon, dangerous creatures with no conscious thought and pure destructive power.

Planet Vegeta had been at the distant reaches of the universe in a galaxy light years from Earth's own Milky Way so its existence was unknown to mankind who'd only begun their explorations of space. Nor would it and its race of warriors ever be known to the human race for Vegeta had been destroyed a good thirty to forty Earth years ago by a heartless tyrant who'd feared the growing power of the Saiyans. With the destruction of their planet came also the destruction of all but a few members of their once proud race and this Saiyan-turned-Soul Reaper had made a point of keeping a list of those that had survived. One was his young cousin, Turles, who'd turned against Frieza ages ago and became a ruthless space pirate; Broly, who'd been an infant very nearly destroyed by King Vegeta, and his father Paragus; Prince Vegeta, son of their king and heir to the Saiyan throne, had been in Frieza's charge and thus been spared; Nappa, who'd been the Prince's guard so to speak and was likewise spared; and his own sons Raditz and Kakarot. Raditz had been away from the planet in service of Frieza while Kakarot had been a newborn infant and was sent to Earth. Of those, Turles, Raditz, Nappa, and Broly had been killed in battle against Kakarot when the boy had reached adulthood and sent to Hell, Paragus had died by his own son's hands, and the Prince now lived on Earth and had joined forces with Kakarot. The vast majority of their race had gone to Hell after death due to their love of battle and destruction and their violent ways. Virtually all Saiyans had the blood of countless races on their hands obtained in their service to Frieza, service that had involved going to other planets and wiping out the native races.

A few had been lucky enough to be granted entrance to the Soul Society and now resided in the districts of the Rukon. This particular Saiyan, he was no exception, he'd helped Frieza to destroy countless lives, had voluntarily wiped out those no one else would touch. He'd always tried not to think too much about it, the few times he did he realized how sick it made him to be doing it, such meaningless violence and mindless killing left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd been a child when Vegeta had defeated the Tuffles and taken the planet as their own, he vaguely recalled the days when the Saiyans were a race of barbaric warriors living in caves who had their own code of honor. Saiyans lived to fight, loved the thrill of battle, but the killing that Frieza used them for… He saw them as nothing more than attack dogs, deprived them of their honor as warriors and made them a race of heartless mercenaries and assassins. None of them had ever thought about it, most had forgotten what life was like before Frieza, they didn't care either. They were doing what they did best and they were well-rewarded and well-paid for it, but of course eventually it bit them in the ass. The only reason this male Saiyan was not in Hell was because he died trying to save his planet and his race, he'd redeemed himself and had earned his place here.

He was known as Son Bardock, a low-class soldier that by all rights should've been retested because with the power level he'd possessed he could've easily been made an elite. His power level at the time of Vegeta's destruction had been close to 10,000, it'd been predicted that had he kept going the way he had been he would have easily surpassed even King Vegeta's power. As it was, he was never given the opportunity because of Frieza's betrayal. That was something he was still very bitter over, an anger he should've let go of after so many years, but an anger he couldn't release so easily. He'd initially been sent to Hell with the rest of his brethren, but once his actions just prior to death came to light, King Yemma opted to send him to the Soul Society. He would rather have stayed in Hell with his team and his best friend, Tora, at least it would've been entertaining. He ended up in the 80th district of the Rukongai, the toughest of all the districts which suited someone like Bardock just fine; there was always a fight to be had. But none there were worth the effort, he was several times stronger than anyone else, so it didn't take long for Bardock to get very bored. Things changed when, after having a few drinks, he unknowingly picked a fight with a soul reaper. He didn't know anything about them, didn't know that the slim young man dressed in black and carrying a sword was one of them. What he did know was that after all was said and done, the man was impressed with his skills as a warrior and the amount of spiritual pressure he possessed, remarked what an asset he would be to the soul reapers.

After that, Bardock managed to get into the Soul Reaper Academy where he felt more than just a little out of place and it wasn't because of his hair and tail, it was due to the fact that the majority of those here were just kids and he was a full-grown adult. But he managed not to focus on that, kept to himself, proved to be a quick study, and in what seemed like no time, was made an official Soul Reaper with his own zanpakuto and assigned to Squad 11 under Captain Kenpachi Zaraki and Lieutenant Yachiru Kusajishi. Being a Soul Reaper could be quite entertaining when a powerful enough hollow appeared and it wasn't without its perks, one of which enabled him to go to and from Hell at will, which he did quite frequently to look in on his team. He'd only recently returned from a ten-year hiatus, stronger now than he'd been when he left which he was very pleased about. He'd been getting a bit bored with his duties as a Soul Reaper when he was approached by a man calling himself the Grand Kai who offered to train him for awhile. Only those who'd sacrificed their lives for someone or something other than themselves were given the honor of being trained by this odd little old man wearing sunglasses. So he'd willingly accepted the offer for specialized training for, like any true Saiyan, Bardock would never pass up the allure of more power which, after much blood, sweat, and irritation, is exactly what he got.

Unfortunately, with the current complications the Soul Society was facing and the loss of three captains, they needed Bardock to return post-haste. Of course he simply returned to his regular duties, but they needed him and any other Soul Reaper available to help eliminate the hollows. Some of them were getting stronger and required stronger _shinigami_ to help purify them and the Saiyan was one of their best and strongest. He'd risen to fourth seat in Squad 11, though admittedly it was only because that pansy-ass pretty boy Yumichika Ayasegawa preferred the "beauty" of being fifth seat, so Zaraki had offered the seat between him and Ikakku Madarame. Not that he had anything truly personal against Ikakku and Yumichika, but one did get tired of all the "ugly monkey" bullshit he got from Yumichika. He was glad to be in the 11th squad, his companions enjoyed fighting as much as he did and were always up for a sparring session especially if there was sake to be had. As it was, there was a lull in activity at the moment, there were no hollows in his area to be killed, and Ikakku and Yumichika spent most of their time in the world of the living in a place called Karakura Town. The device attached to his left ear began peeping, Bardock's eye glancing at the small green screen over his left eye where a small yellow arrow pointed to his left, the numbers indicating a spiritual pressure beyond calculation. This was one of Bardock's own creations, he'd used his original scouter, a machine all Saiyans used to read power levels, as a prototype and programmed it to read spiritual pressure as well as power levels.

In seconds he heard the tinkle of bells on the wind and he turned to his left taking a fighting stance, his scouter indicating that the spiritual pressure was coming from the left still, it'd been behind him. He turned to face it, his zanpakuto Shenron flew from its sheath just as a battered blade came down, the metal clanging as the two swords met. A single black eye with a maniacal gleam in it and a unique eye patch covering its twin met Bardock's own onyx orbs, confirming what he already knew: it was his captain Kenpachi Zaraki. There was no one in the Seireitei who loved fighting more than the dreaded captain of Squad 11, he was a dangerous opponent who'd come to his position by defeating and killing his predecessor. The patch he wore over his right eye was specially designed to absorb the excessive, limitless spiritual pressure he exuded. Bardock was one of the few that could hear the bells that adorned the tips of the spikes of Zaraki's black hair, he had easily won the captain's favor and was among the few that was any challenge for him. Zaraki had come from the 79th Rukon district, a battle-hardened warrior by the time he came to the Seireitei, the scar running from above his brow, over his left eye, down to his chin spoke of a hard past filled with violence and bloodshed. Small wonder he'd become such a feared monster who lived only to fight, it was probably all he'd ever known in this world. A wicked grin spread across Zaraki's face as a rough chuckle emerged from his lips while Bardock smirked up at him before the two leapt apart.

The fight continued for a good hour or so, neither knew how long, both absorbed in the thrill of the fight, Bardock admiring his captain's skill and power. Kenpachi would've made a fine Saiyan. It ended when Kenpachi's flash step outmaneuvered Bardock's after-image technique, the chipped blade practically touching the tip of the Saiyan's nose.

"Huh. You're slipping," Kenpachi remarked, a bored frown on his face, "You're better than this, Bardock."

"I wasn't trying any less than usual," Bardock said as the blade left his face and came to rest on its owner's shoulder.

"Please," his captain replied, "You're heart wasn't in it, I could tell."

"Bullshit," he snorted.

"Hmph, you're usually more of a challenge, Bardock. I'm almost disappointed."

"What?" Bardock was understandably upset with that comment especially since Kenpachi was walking away, "Are you walking away from me, Captain?"

"Yeah, this fight's startin' to bore me."

"Ha! Isn't this usually when you just kill your opponent?"

"I would, but the paper work's piling up and I need somebody to do it. Besides, you ain't worth the time it'd take to kill you. Not with the way you're fighting today."

"How dare you-!"

"Trust me, Saiyan, I dare. What're you gonna do about it?"

The tone in his voice was challenging as Kenpachi stopped to look over his broad shoulder and grin menacingly at Bardock, but he wasn't going to be baited. He forgot that Kenpachi was actually observant in battle, he actually thought his captain would miss that his mind wasn't currently on the battle. He wasn't actually in any mood for a fight, much as that might go against his Saiyan nature. He crossed his arms, head on his chest, his eyes cast to the side averted from Kenpachi who merely shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

"Wow, that was close," a high-pitched feminine voice came from behind him.

Bardock jumped and turned to look behind him to see the lieutenant of the 10th division Rangiku Matsumoto seated on the edge of the rooftop, elbows resting on her knees. The position offered a tempting view of her supple breasts, not that she necessarily hid them, but he quickly forced his mind away from that. He forced his gaze to come up and meet her pale blue eyes, his eyelids partly lowered and an eyebrow quirked as he regarded her with look of mildly annoyed curiosity.

She was easily one of the most attractive women among the Soul Reapers with her flowing reddish waves and light grey-blue eyes, but, affective a lieutenant as she was, she could be a bit of an airhead outside of her duties. Nonetheless, they were friendly with each other, he was quite fond of her and she was a lot of fun. They'd shared many a bottle of sake over the years and occasionally a bed, but much as he liked her, he had no hope of being anymore than casual with her. She had an affinity for Gin Ichimaru, the former captain of the 3rd division, a traitor who'd left with Sosuke Aizen for Hueco Mundo. Not that he was really looking for a relationship or love, but he could see it in her eyes when she was thinking of her old friend.

"I thought for sure he was gonna go for you again," she remarked.

Bardock rolled his eyes, "How long have you been here?"

"Oh years, I think-" she began.

"I meant right here, watching!" he snapped; she really was a ditz sometimes.

"Oh! Well, there's no need to be mean about it," she pouted a little, "Awhile, I guess."

His eyes narrowed at her obviously non-specific answer; she'd meant just to see what the racquet was, but she enjoyed watching Bardock fight. Like all Soul Reapers, he'd added his personal touches to his uniform, wearing only his right arm in the sleeve while the left remained bare to show the Saiyan armor he wore underneath. He still wore the red arm and leg warmers he had in life, but the Saiyan boots had been replaced with the Japanese sandals all Soul Reapers wore. Around his head, surrounded by the wild spikes of black hair, he wore a blood-red bandana, its color darker than that of the sweatbands adorning his legs and arms. She swore that headband meant more to the man than life itself, then there was the furry appendage that was currently swishing behind him impatiently. Sometimes it was loose as it was now, other times he wrapped it around his waist, and like many she had thought it was just some furry belt he wore as a trophy or something when he'd first arrived.

That was until the first night they'd shared some sake and she'd gone with him to his room where she realized the "belt" was attached to him, a continuation of his spine covered in soft brown fur. She also learned quickly enough that it was extremely prehensile, often being used as a fifth limb to a fuller extent than any monkey, and highly sensitive. A light, gentle enough touch sent a shiver up his spine, often eliciting a soft pleased moan from his lips, but a hard tug was unbearably painful. The pain of having his tail pulled was such that he was temporarily immobilized and rendered helpless, often falling to his knees. It was a weakness that Bardock as a low-class Saiyan had never outgrown or been trained to conquer.

"Rangiku!" he snapped.

"Long enough to have seen most of your little scuffle!" she replied, leaning back in shock at his tone, "Gee, Bardock, you're not usually quite this cranky."

"Dammit, Matsumoto," he grumbled, "You coulda just said that!"

"Hmph!" she crossed her arms over her chest, which really didn't help _that_ view, "You really need to do a better job remembering I'm a lieutenant and you need to be a bit more respectful."

Respect never was Bardock's strong point especially for those who were above him, knew they were, and treated him as a lesser being because of it. The result was a bit of an inferiority complex that was rather at odds with his ego, so he was usually on edge around superior officers and didn't always show them the respect due them. Rangiku usually brushed it off as did a few of the others, but he knew who didn't let him get away with it and made an effort to respect them. At the top of that list was the 6th squad captain Byakuya Kuchiki, the head of one of the four noble families in the Soul Society. Kuchiki was a man you didn't screw with; Bardock had made the mistake once and he damn sure wasn't going to repeat it again. He'd seen that captain's zanpakuto Senbonzakura in action and delicate as it seemed, it did a lot of damage and wasn't to be underestimated.

"And just what the hell did you mean by this cranky?" he asked hands on his hips, head tilted slightly.

"Everyone knows you're grumpy most of the time," she stated, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, "But it's not usually this bad."

Bardock sighed in a vain attempt to control the bad temper that all in his race seemed to possess, just one more thing that made them dangerous beings. Granted, he was sarcastic, crass, assinine really, rude, naturally temperamental and at times nasty, but he'd never considered himself grumpy. Though he never thought of himself as a good person, beneath the rough exterior and macho, tough-guy act, lay hidden a decent person; he had a good heart underneath all the ego and attitude. He'd loved his sons as any father should and was as he could considering his race's ways and his own upbringing that had been filled with neglect and abuse at his own father's hands. His father had been far from loving, had only ever seen Bardock as a bitter disappointment, and had bestowed on him a great many bumps, bruises, and contusions. In fact, contrary to anything he'd ever told anyone, the scar on his left cheek had been caused by Bardock's father when he'd aimed a blast at his face. Bardock had tilted his head away to avoid being hit, but it had cut his cheek deep enough to leave a permanent mark. Though Bardock had been dismissive when it came to the potential of his own sons, he'd taken care of Raditz and had done his best to do better by his son than his father had ever done by him. It was the best any could expect from a man whose only male influence had been a violent, uncaring brute even by Saiyan standards.

Bardock's better nature had been passed on to his younger son Kakarot and that good heart had flourished outside of Saiyan influence and under the nurture of the human race. It was this that currently had Bardock in a mood, his own sense of inadequacy in comparison to his second-born that left him questioning all he'd ever known. He'd watched Kakarot grow up, had kept up with his progress, his heart filled with fatherly pride that a low class like Kakarot had achieved Super Saiyan. He'd have liked nothing more than to meet his son, know him and talk to him face to face, but they were so different in personality and their ways. No doubt Kakarot, no, Goku wouldn't want anything to do with Bardock if he knew him. Goku was gentle and kind, willing to do anything and everything in his power to protect his family and his planet. He'd already seen the ruthlessness of a true Saiyan nature and he'd thought little of it, had disapproved of it and there were a great many terrible things Bardock had done in his life that he wasn't proud of, at least not anymore. He was forever divided between shock and disappointment over how un-Saiyan like his son was and the pride he felt over all that he'd become without the influence of another Saiyan. He rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit Goku had inherited from him, before looking back at Rangiku.

"It's personal," he replied quietly.

"Oh," she relaxed, seeing the lost look in his obsidian eyes, "Well, if you wanna talk…"

"I'll find you," he finished as she got up to leave, realizing that he was in no mood to talk.

Bardock was one to keep his problems to himself, to suffer in silence and bear his burdens alone, but often it left him to become moodier than usual as he brooded over things. Rangiku was the closest thing he had to a friend here and she knew him a lot better than he was comfortable with, so she knew he needed space at the moment and so left him alone for the time being. Unfortunately, that solitude didn't last long, Bardock knew when he again had unwelcome company without his scouter even going off. The person who'd disturbed his peace this time was skilled in hiding his power level so it wasn't detected by the Saiyan's device. He quickly turned to face the intruder, his features hard and angry, his hand going for the hilt of his sword before his sight even landed on the amphibian-like features.

"Toolo," he snarled at the strange being standing before him, in what seemed to be a relaxed stance, but Bardock knew he too was tense.

He was a Kanassan who'd died barely twenty-four hours prior to Bardock himself, one of a psychic alien race Bardock and his team had wiped out just before Vegeta's destruction. Toolo hated him with a passion for that reason, he'd escaped the initial attack and had cursed Bardock with the psychic powers of the Kanassans to punish him, to force him to see the end of his race as Toolo and his people had foreseen their own end. Bardock had killed him in retaliation, thinking nothing of the curse until the visions began plaguing his mind. The hatred Toolo felt for Bardock was returned by the Saiyan in full, that hatred turning into a powerful rivalry when Bardock came to the Soul Society and found that not only had the Kanassan been granted entrance, he'd likewise become a Soul Reaper.

At the moment, a satisfied smirk was on Toolo's reptilian countenance, pleased that his curse on Bardock had not only remained with him after death, but that those psychic abilities, specifically the visions, still tormented him.

"What're you smirking about?" the Saiyan sneered.

"How does it feel, Saiyan," Toolo responded, "to fly so close to the sun and never be able to touch it?"

Bardock rolled his eyes, exhaling an aggravated sigh; he got so tired of Toolo's endless riddles. He could just do it the easy way and read Toolo's mind to get the answers he wanted, but where was the fun in that? Besides, that'd give Toolo the satisfaction of knowing that Bardock was simply taking the easy way out instead of trading tit for tat and he hated to give Toolo any satisfaction at all.

"How does it feel, Kanassan," he replied, "to have your head so far up your ass you can't give a straight answer?"

The smirk quickly faded as he realized Bardock's foul mood was not going to make him any less sarcastic or any easier to beat in their little games.

"Even now, Saiyan," he said, "You are paying for what you did."

"And that gives you so much pleasure," Bardock growled, "Too bad a woman can't do the same thing. You could use a good lay."

Toolo's eyes narrowed at Bardock; the Saiyans were an immodest and unabashed race, Bardock's lack of concern with such a quip proved it.

"You cannot even show yourself to the sun," he went on, determined to strike as low a blow, "For it would forsake you. So you wisely hide in the shadows from its sight, knowing it would reject you."

Normally, Bardock would've launched himself at the man for such an insult and given him a sound beating in return; the implication wasn't lost on him. He was intelligent and he knew that "the sun" referred to Kakarot; Toolo was striking a low blow. As it was, Bardock was already treading the waters of his shame and that remark had only deepened it. He wasn't one who normally felt shame, but knowing that his own son would likely reject him had left his shame raw and open. So he said nothing.

"Buzz off, lizard-breath," he muttered, "I ain't in the mood for you."

"How very hard the mighty fall," was the repsonse.

Toolo hadn't expected the large Saiyan fist to hit him squarely in the face, throwing him back, almost knocking him off the roof. The only thing that stopped him was Bardock's tail wrapped around his wrist, which surprised him until Bardock's foot connected his abdomen. His tail released its hold at the same instant as the force of the blow sent Toolo flying into the side of a building. He fell to the ground, the impact leaving a dent in the ground and Toolo very much dazed to say the least.

"Jerk," Bardock mumbled as he stalked off.

He wasn't sure where he'd go, whether to the world of the living or to Hell, but he needed to get out of the Seiretei for awhile. Maybe it was high time he go to Earth to see his younger son from a distance at the very least. It was getting harder to resist the temptation that had haunted him all these years, maybe he should just give in.


	2. Not the End, Not the Beginning

Bardock grabbed a bottle of water as the crowd, mostly women, filed out of the large room he used for these sessions, taking deep gulps to rehydrate his body. This was his secret, where he came when he got bored with the Soul Society, the world of the living where he had a job in Tokyo as a trainer. He worked in a gym on the ground floor of one of the many skyscrapers that housed a large company that led Japan in terms of technology and the finances to develop it. He spent more time in his _gigai _than any other Soul Reaper, so unlike most he knew how to get in and out of one without much trouble. This was a second life he led here in the world of the living on Earth where he found far more entertainment than in the Soul Society plus a much wider variety of food which, with a Saiyan's insatiable appetite, was always a good thing. He taught a few classes a day, beginning them with yoga stretches to help center his students and moving onto any number of self-defense techniques. They were popular but his first classes were always the fullest, he was a hard teacher and only those that could tolerate his attitude and sarcasm survived beyond that. Those first few classes tended to be the hardest as he set the pace of the exercises and weeded out the weak who couldn't handle his technique.

The majority of his class were women, a few men here or there, but Bardock's rugged good looks and muscular build made him very popular with the ladies. Usually, he was more than happy to return the winks and seductive glances of the females that walked past him, eager to chat one of them up long enough to invite her out for a drink. Today, however, his mind was again elsewhere. Shenron had been pestering him to no end so his zanpakuto was currently in "time out." Call him crazy, but each Soul Reaper's zanpakuto had a personality and a spirit all its own, most could hear the voice of their weapon and saw it not as a tool but their partner. Bardock's Shenron was sarcastic and impatient, much like Bardock himself, they were of similar height and features, but Shenron had wild reddish hair, blue eyes and most of his torso was covered in brown fur with a long monkey-like tail. Bardock did a double-take at that moment; he swore he saw Shenron out of the corner of his eye leaning against the wall behind him. He choked on the water he'd been about to swallow, spitting it out in shock as he realized his eyes hadn't deceived him.

"What the-?" he snapped, wiping the water away, "Who the hell let you out of the closet?"

"Bad gay jokes aside," Shenron smirked with a shrug, "You thought of me, I thought I was being summoned."

"Somehow I doubt you're supposed to have this much free will," Bardock replied.

"Shows what you know," was the response.

Some things never changed, "You haven't answered my question."

"Ooh, big bad boss-man," Shenron mocked him, "My bad, I thought we were partners and now you're telling me I'm just a subordinate. Tch. Fine, but next time you're up against a hollow that ain't going done with fists alone, don't come crying to me."

Bardock rolled his eyes as Shenron turned to disappear; he could be so dramatic, "SHENRON!"

"DUDE!" the zapakuto yelled back, "Relax, Bard! Man, what's gotten into you lately? I always knew you were a jerk, but…"

"Dammit, Shenron!"

"Bardock," Shenron's tone was calm, "Calm down and chill out. You should know how this works by now. You need me, I come, sword or no sword."

"You're annoying."

"Whatever, Bard. When you manage to pull your head outta your ass, you let me know."

And with that, Shenron was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving Bardock to himself which wasn't necessarily what he wanted right now. But Shenron was his zanpakuto, not a friend he could get a drink with, it was times like this he missed Tora most. He'd grown up with Tora, they'd known each other all their lives, had trained together, been on countless missions together, they were partners when they first started going on Frieza's missions. Tora had been nearly as strong as Bardock, though he was taller with a larger build, but was far more patient with a kinder heart. Tora had been his best and oldest friend, his brother. Bardock shook his head as he wiped the sweat off his brow with a towel and gathered his things to head back to the apartment he kept here on Earth. He was a warrior, a Saiyan, not a human, he would not be ruled by his emotions, they didn't help anything and they sure as hell couldn't bring Tora back. He walked down the street, gym bag over his shoulder, free hand in his pocket, he glanced at a tinted window as he passed, eyes wandering over his reflection. Suddenly an image of Tora appeared behind his reflection, Bardock glancing over his shoulder to make sure Tora wasn't truly there. Naturally he wasn't, but the image of his deceased friend remained when he looked back, the expression sad and concerned.

"You need me," the image said, its voice exactly as Bardock remembered Tora's.

"If you want him back so badly," Shenron's voice said in his mind, "You could just use the Dragon Balls and wish him here."

"Wish a full-grown Saiyan back to life on Earth," Bardock muttered in response, "That probably wouldn't be bright."

"This is Tora we're talking about," Shenron answered.

"There are people protecting this planet," the Saiyan answered, "with experience against Saiyans who wouldn't react well to him and would likely not even give him a chance."

"Your son would."

"My son… who was forced against his will to fight and defeat his own brother, who was badly beaten by two other Saiyans."

"Your son who spared the life of one of those Saiyans and saw the better side of that Saiyan."

Bardock sighed, prepared to counter that comment, when something suddenly slammed into him hard enough to knock him to the ground.

"Oh, man!" a male voice said, "Really sorry about that. Haha! Guess I wasn't paying attention."

A hand grabbed Bardock's forearm in a firm grip and pulled him to his feet before he could so much as look at who'd run into him.

"You all right?" the voice asked.

"Fine," Bardock snapped, shaking the hand off, "Just get your hand off me!"

"Well, that's not very nice. It was just an accident."

"Smooth, Kakarot, very smooth," a rougher voice joined in, "I knew you were going to run into something."

"Ka-Kakarot?" the sound of that name made Bardock turn and look at the pair.

Lo and behold, before him stood a man with the same wild black spikes as his own, a couple inches shorter with a lighter skin tone, but aside from those subtle differences he was a carbon copy. His companion was quite a bit shorter, his features arrogant, his black hair sticking up in a familiar style, the same fashion as the King so clearly standing before him was the Prince of all Saiyans. At the sound of his Saiyan name, Goku turned back to look at the man he'd bumped into, shocked to see a face similar to his own looking back at him, Vegeta's attention also turning to Bardock.

The Prince smirked as he realized who it was he must be looking at, "Well, this should be interesting."

Quite suddenly, as Bardock had been ready to snap at Vegeta, a roar sounded, that call all too familiar to Bardock, putting all his senses on high alert. Vegeta and Goku both looked in the direction that horrible sound had come from, neither having ever heard anything like it before. Instantly, the two were in a fighting stance, while Bardock had burst from his _gigai _behind them and leapt over their heads as he pulled Shenron from its sheath and the gigantic hollow came into view.

"Oh… shit," he cursed as he looked up at it; hollows that size were usually difficult, "Why can't you guys show up somewhere other than a crowded street?"

The hollow simply roared in response; Bardock knew exactly what drew it here as his scouter began beeping, two arrows pointing behind him, indicating Goku's and Vegeta's power levels. Both were incredibly strong, but that kind of power was the kind that lured hollows toward more tempting souls; hollows went after other souls, but when a strong soul appeared, hollows would take that over a weaker one.

The power that Saiyans and certain humans possessed manifested after death as spiritual pressure, hence why Bardock had the powers to become a Soul Reaper, his psychic abilities only made those powers stronger. He glanced around, ignoring the shocked looks on Goku and Vegeta's faces and the fact that they could apparently see him, at the people oblivious to his or the hollow's presence. He had to lure the hollow away from here before an innocent bystander got hurt, which would only piss Yemma off, or worse: devoured.

"All right, ugly," he muttered looking back up at the hollow, hand thrown out with open palm as he powered up a blast, "Come get me!"

He let the blast off before turning and leaping from the ground to the rooftops as the hollow let out a roar of pain letting Bardock know that the blast had hit followed shortly after by the sound of the beast's footsteps.

"All right, Shenron," he muttered, "We need to go to someplace that's completely desolate and would never be in real life at all and it's huge and it's bajillion miles wide and it's nowhere to be found on Earth…" he led the hollow to a clearing on the outskirts of town, "But it's right over there!"

He landed in the middle of the clearing, skidding to a stop as he turned to face his opponent who was clearly peeved and getting closer as it let out another roar. His scouter began beeping furiously, the arrow pointing upward and to the right as Goku and Vegeta appeared in the air, both about to land.

"You fools!" he yelled, his eyes locked on the hollow, "Stay where you are!"

"But-!" Goku got out before Bardock cut him off.

"Kakarot," he replied, his voice calm and even, "I can handle this."

"Your son," Shenron said mentally.

"The family reunion can wait," Bardock said, "My job comes first. Oh crap."

Out of nowhere giant claws came slashing at him; Bardock leapt back to dodge, but he wasn't quite quick enough as they caught him in the shoulder. He landed, a smirk on his lips as the pain throbbed and the coppery smell of blood hit his nostrils; the fight was about to begin. The claws came down again, this time clashing against the blade of Bardock's sword, and he fired a ki blast that hit the hollow in the chest just above the hole that lay there.

Goku had no idea who or what this man was nor did he know how he knew Goku's Saiyan name, a name only Vegeta called him by, he didn't even have the slightest clue what that monster he was fighting was. All he knew was that, judging by the scouter the man wore and the long brown tail that lashed behind him, this man was another Saiyan who bore a strong resemblance to Goku himself. His instincts demanded he help, told him that this Saiyan was blood somehow, even while his common sense and experience warned him about what this man was capable of and what he might do. The battle waged on, the hollow proving to be more than Bardock had thought initally; the warnings had been right, this hollow was stronger than he'd bargained for. He was bruised and bleeding, but though Goku had moved to help, he pressed on, not letting his son aid him in this fight. He was far from done, he knew this enemy, while  
Kakarot didn't and though he knew of his son's experience in battle, the boy would only get in his way. The hollow was not unscathed, this fight was drawing to a close, Bardock could feel it and he looked forward to the end of this. He charged at the hollow at the same moment it moved in to attack him, the smell of blood filling the air, a warm stickiness streaming down his shoulder and soaking through his black kimono. The teeth of the hollow were embedded in his right shoulder, an injury similar to the one inflicted on Rukia Kuchiki when she'd first met Ichigo Kurosaki, his blade thrust through the hollow's throat.

He pressed his hand against the hollow, blasting it and forcing it to release its hold and back away enough to allow him to leap back before launching himself into the air. He came down, his zanpakuto point down and embedded it in the face of the beast, then landed on the ground as it disintegrated and vanished. He slid Shenron back into the sheath only to hear the roar of another hollow nearby and looked about to see a number of smaller hollows emerging.

"You gotta be kidding me," he muttered, again unsheathing his sword.

A black butterfly suddenly flew toward him as Goku landed on the ground and approached him, Bardock holding out a hand that the insect landed on, his wings flapping rhythmically.

"Warning," Bardock muttered as the message was relayed, "There has been an influx in hollow activity?" he groaned as the hell butterfly left and he took a fighting stance, "No shit! Little late on the warning!"

"What's going on?" Goku asked.

"Kakarot!" Bardock ordered, "I will explain, but stand back and let me handle this!"

"You're hurt!" he argued.

"You'll only get in the way!" the older Saiyan yelled, looking at him with a fierce glare on his face, before it softened slightly, "I can handle this."

Reluctantly, he stood back, ready to intervene if need be, and watched as Bardock quickly cut through the monsters that surrounded him. Tired and drained as he was, like any Saiyan Bardock kept fighting, taking out one hollow after another; luckily these were weaker hollows that required little effort on his part. Nonetheless, he was relieved as they went down one by one until there were none left standing and no more reappeared. He straightened, breathing hard, and resheathed his sword before turning and looking at Goku and the Prince who'd finally landed on the ground. Only then did he wonder how it was they could see him in his current form or the hollows, but before he voiced those questions, he entered his _gigai_.

"What the hell?" he demanded as he looked back at the two younger Saiyans.

"Hmph!" Vegeta responded, arms crossed over his chest, "You're the odd one to be asking questions. You're supposed to be dead!"

"What're you talking about, Vegeta?" Goku turned to look at him.

"Look, whelp," Bardock began, ignoring Goku.

"No one survived our planet's destruction!" the Prince glared hard at him.

"I AM DEAD!" the low-class soldier shouted.

"And yet you stand before me, explain that!"

"I'm a Soul Reaper, you idiot!"

"I really wish one of you would tell me what's going on," Goku put in firmly since the other two had momentarily shut up.

Bardock let out a sigh, "Kakarot."

"How do you know that name? Who are you?" he asked.

"My name… is Bardock. I'm your father."

"My father? But how?"

"Oh, don't tell me!" Vegeta snapped, "You have two sons! What do you mean how? Seems to me you should've figured that one out already, Kakarot!"

"You, shut up," Bardock looked at the Prince, before looking back at Goku, "I told you, I'm dead… technically. I'm a Soul Reaper, those things you saw were hollows. They're souls that went bad after death, it's my job as a Soul Reaper to purify them."

Vegeta looked at him skeptically; he'd seen beings dressed much like Bardock before, but had never previously paid much attention to them. Having died before, he also knew that all Saiyans had been sent to Hell, he'd ended up there himself when Frieza'd killed him and had seen firsthand all the others of their race that had been there.

"Impossible," he said, "All Saiyans went to Hell after death. I've heard of these Soul Reapers from the others and, if what I was told is true, they live on the other side of Other World. No Saiyan was sent to that side!"

"_Most _Saiyans were sent to Hell," Bardock replied, rolling his eyes, "Not all of us. I redeemed myself just before I got burned into crispy-fried monkey by that death ball of Frieza's."

"Oh?" the Prince quirked an eyebrow, "And how did you do that?"

"Pretty stupid in retrospect," the older Saiyan replied, rubbing the back of his head, "Total suicide mission, really. I flew out into space to confront Frieza, told him we weren't going to be his attack dogs anymore, and tried to attack him. I made a fatal error that shouldn't have been made, I seriously underestimated his power."

"Bravo," Vegeta sarcastically clapped his hands, "And what made you think a mere low-class like you could've taken on Frieza when not even my father was strong enough to."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously."

"I don't recall the King ever quite being the same cold-hearted prick you've become, Prince!" Bardock's patience with the heir to the Saiyan throne was wearing thin, "I was sick and possibly mad with grief! Dodoria had killed my team, I knew what Frieza was planning to do! I wanted to stop him, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"So you decided to play the hero."

"You make that sound like such a bad thing."

"Hmph. It means nothing when you're too weak to have any hope of winning and against Frieza, _you_ had no hope."

"You lost to him as well, Prince."

"I at least held my own for awhile, you lasted all of five seconds. You should've known better, being the pathetic low-class that you are."

Bardock growled; Vegeta had hit a sore spot and he damn well knew it, it was Saiyans like him that got under Bardock's skin and put him on the defense.

"I'll have you know, Prince," he practically spat the title, "My power level at the time of Vegeta's destruction was almost 10,000 and courtesy of specialized training over the years it's even greater than that now."

"Impossible! No low-class soldier was that strong!"

"No? What about Kakarot? More to the point, it's why I should have been retested. I'd have easily made elite then."

Vegeta bristled at the absolute lack of respect from Bardock; Kakarot could be excused, he wasn't raised a true Saiyan and hadn't had any idea who Vegeta was plus that annoying habit of his of treating everyone the same. Bardock was a different story, Bardock knew who the King had been, he knew full well that Vegeta was a prince and still he dared disrespect him. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, surely not all of Kakarot's traits and behaviors were learned from Earthlings. Here, standing before him in a black kimono, lay the source of Goku's self-sacrifice, his determination and stubborn streak, the absolute confidence in himself, the limitless potential for great power, and even to some extent his kind heart. The two were alike in as many ways as they were different, Vegeta was willing to bet that had Goku been raised a Saiyan and never bumped his head, he'd have been a miniature of his father. A low-class Saiyan with the power Bardock claimed to have had was unheard of before Kakarot, a Saiyan that had been admitted to what the others called the Soul Society was impossible.

"Improbable, Prince," Bardock suddenly remarked, "Not impossible."

"What? But how did you-?" the Prince got out in shock.

"I have certain abilities," he smirked, "Let's leave it at that. Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

"You would dare lie to your Prince?"

"No, of course not," Bardock turned to take his leave, "I just wouldn't answer."

Vegeta did the same indignantly, "Come on then, Kakarot!"

"But, Vegeta, shouldn't we-?" he began, but was interrupted.

"Don't bother, the man's incorrigible," his companion snapped.

"Actually encourageable's more like it," Bardock quipped turning and looking at them briefly, "Well, it's been real, but I gotta split. So see ya later, it's been a real…slice. I'll tell your old man you said 'hi', Vegeta."

And with that Bardock was gone by use of the flash-step technique all Soul Reapers knew, but he seldom ever used out of preference for his own Saiyan after-image move.


End file.
